


Quant Amors Trobet Partit

by wefewwehappyfew



Series: Ghosts that we knew [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Continuing with complicated relationships, F/M, a moment of peace but this will not end well, forest encounters, medieval music because I am a nerd
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-18
Updated: 2017-02-18
Packaged: 2018-09-25 09:50:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9814001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wefewwehappyfew/pseuds/wefewwehappyfew
Summary: Music, a feast, and time for confessions.





	

**Quant Amors Trobet Partit**

 

 

He brought them for her.

Troubadours, the latest craze from the continent. Someone who loved music as much as she did (Alfred himself quite remembered the many times he observed her playing the harp) surely would appreciate a present like this.

And, if Helena’s expression is any sign of it, Alfred was right. She _loves_ it. He can see that spark in her eyes, beyond that well-rehearsed calm demeanor that made her resemble those statues of the Virgin Mary that Bishop Thomas cared so much for.

He loved her.  Why was that so difficult to understand? Why couldn’t she return his affections? He would give her everything she wanted. He would plunge his whole earldom in debt if it was necessary. He would give his life for just a kiss. For a smile. For the words _I love you_ coming from her lips.

And he would die a happy man after that.

A man, one of his mother’s advisors, tries to start a conversation with Alfred, but he only has eyes for Helena. Tears have started falling down her cheeks, but she lets them untouched, enthralled as she is by the music.

(If it were for him, he would kiss each and every one of those tears.)

The music ends and she stays there, seemingly unaware of the many people that surround her, until she looks down and leaves the hall.

And, of course, he follows her.

He would follow her to the end of the world, if it was necessary. Even if now it is only outside, and she stops near the first tree she finds, resting against it, probably not realising he is there.

That until he notices her looking at him.

There is no hatred, or coldness in her eyes. Simply sadness. A sadness beyond that song, beyond the reactions he used to see to her many frustrations during their time at Hogwarts.

No, this sadness runs _deep_. Deeper than what he ever thought.

Alfred wants to reach for Helena, comfort her. But to what use would that be? She would push him away, like she has done before.

And yet, maybe this is the moment to show her that he is still her friend. He approaches her, and she doesn’t flinch, or try to step away. In fact, when he ends up cupping her cheek, she rests it against his hand, closing her eyes before she ends up resting against him in an embrace.

“Thank you” she manages to whisper after a long moment of silence.

And she looks up and him, with a smile that fills him with a strange sort of joy.

He finally has the only thing he has ever wanted.

——

She is only human.

Helena knows that if she didn’t love Alfred, this would be way easier. Her resolve would not crumble. She would be a proud queen of ice. She wouldn’t have even stayed. She would have disappeared at the first opportunity (and she had had aplenty).

She would not be where she is.

In his arms, smiling at him.

The worst thing is that a part of her does not want this to end, even if this is only going to cause them pain.

And, oh Merlin, she promised herself she would _not_ do this.

But, as Helena brushes her lips against his, she remembers that promises too can be broken.

She can feel Alfred’s heartbeat against the hand she has placed on his chest.

“So it’s true?” he asks, with such a hope in tone and expression that could move the harshest of hearts to tenderness. “Have I not hoped in vain for your love?”

“It has not been in vain, of that I can assure you.” Her fingers ghost over his cheek and he closes his eyes for a moment.

It is strangely overwhelming, how every gesture of his, even those in reaction, seems infused with such adoration towards her.  It could be even scary, if one thought of it.

But not as scary as the thought of Alfred asking her to marry him. Because she know he will, at any given moment, and she knows she will have to say no. She loved him, she would willingly become his mistress for as long as they wanted each other. But not his wife.

She was fighting hard for her life to be in her own terms, and not even he could take that from her.

“But do you love me, truly?” He asks, and her heart is moved again.

Why would he think himself so unloveable? He sure was brash, and hot tempered, ( Someone called him once “ _The most Gryffindor of all Slytherins_ ”) and sometimes a difficult person, but he could also be kindest man she had ever known. Her very own knight in shining armour.

And she was a difficult person too. Even if she would never admit it. But she loved him, and not by the influx of amortentia or any other kind of potion or spell. Hers was a love as true as his.

( _If it weren’t, she would not be here_.)

“I love you, Alfred.” she smiles, reassuringly. “And I truly do so.”

He smiles and the rest of the world disappears for her. There’s only him, and she feels a blissful calm washing over her.

“I love you, Helena.” He says before he kisses her.

In the deep of her heart, Helena Ravenclaw knows that this will not end well.

But she’ll do the most of it while she can.

**Author's Note:**

> \- Continuation of sorts of my previous drabble because I am neck deep in this ship and my love of all things medieval is showing.
> 
> \- Yeah, I have to callout myself in this one: The fact that they have troubadours in the fic is anachronistic af because the first known troubadours will not appear until a century or something later. BUT I NEEDED MY MUSIC DOSE OKAY???? Also, obviously the title is from a troubadour song. If you guys want to read this with music, I wholeheartedly recommend the version by Estampie.
> 
> \- Also, yes, sending the line “though I always spurned his advances” to heck because of reasons, and because I believe that things were more complicated than what the Grey Lady tells Harry.
> 
> \- Btw, if you are wondering, I do draw inspiration from two historical romances for these dolts.
> 
> \- The first is Heloise and Abelard, mostly using Heloise as a basis of sorts for Helena, because of her thirst for knowledge and her mighty need for independence (even prefering to be Abelard’s mistress rather than his wife)
> 
> \- The other is Peter I of Portugal and Inês de Castro, then again mostly using Peter as a basis of sorts for Alfred. Hot tempered? Check (Dude went to war with his father because he ordered the death of his beloved) Obsessive love? CHECK (SEE EXAMPLE NUMBER ONE AND ALSO THE FACT OF THEIR TOMBS FACING EACH OTHER SO THEY COULD BE THE FIRST THING EACH OTHER SAW ON JUDGEMENT DAY. ATÈ AO FIM DO MUNDO MY FEEEEEELS)


End file.
